


One doctor in the palm of your hand is better than a billion nurses in the hospitals.

by mybigfatcat



Series: GRi drabbles and oneshots for a rainy day [7]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Doctor Kink, Doctor/Patient, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 22:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybigfatcat/pseuds/mybigfatcat
Summary: Jiyong has a thing for nurses. Maybe even doctors too.A oneshot for a rainy day.





	One doctor in the palm of your hand is better than a billion nurses in the hospitals.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this fic was a group exercise, and a sibling fic written by [orangeunnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeunnie/pseuds/orangeunnie) can be found [**HERE**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15569511). Please go read it too! 
> 
> The title references an idiom that in Swedish goes something like “it’s better to have one bird in the palm of your hand than ten birds in the woods”. I think it sounds a bit more fun than the English version.
> 
> This short fic is dedicated to the gang. Ya'll know who you are and the part you played in the creation of this particular GRi AU.
> 
>  
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is fiction and nothing but fiction. It is not meant for commercial purposes.

-

 

Hospitals are always brightly and artificially lit. They smell weird, they sound weird. Hospitals gives Jiyong the heebie jeebies.This is why he’s taken to avoid them, which has led to one to many colds left untreated, and a few hospitalizations for this very reason. He once sprained his ankle while doing his military service and got stuck in a hospital bed for a week. He hates hospitals.

Nurses on the other hand, the nurses he loves.

Which is why he’s mostly been able to ignore the fact that his friend Youngbae is getting a deep gash in the back of his head stitched up, even though he’s got an iron grip on Jiyong’s right hand. Jiyong is busy looking at the nurses station outside the opening in the curtain around them. He likes the uniforms in this hospital, they’ve got a color that is warmer than white, and the dark red stripe in the collar is adorable. Even though most of them are wearing trousers they look feminine, caring, sensitive-

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dong. Just a few more stitches. Nurse Kim, will you please dab,” the doctor says just as Youngbae clenches extra hard on Jiyong’s hand, his fingers immovable iron around Jiyong’s. It hurts like hell and it makes Jiyong lose focus and his eyes dart up to his friend’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Youngbae says through clenched teeth. Jiyong does his best to smile reassuringly, but he’s probably just looking like he’s making a face from the pain. All those hours Youngbae spends at the gym are really obvious at this moment.

What is also obvious is the big gash on Youngbae’s head. Or at least the blood coming from it. Right after Youngbae had greeted the practice room bench with his head they had pressed a clean towel to his bleeding wound, so Jiyong had not seen much of it, but now there was blood everywhere.

Head wounds bleed that much, it looks worse than it is, he tells himself. Intellectually he knows this is true, and he knows that the doctor knows what he’s doing and the bleeding is gonna stop once they stop stitching... but Jiyong still feels his head loll a bit to the side. Feels his mouth fill with an excess of saliva that he has to swallow down hard. Sees how the room swims in and out of focus and before he knows it, he’s flat on his back on the hard floor.

“For god's sake,” the old doctor says and calls out for the nurses outside.

When Jiyong comes to, it’s to the feeling of someone lifting his eyelids to check his eyes. He can’t see much though, the world is bright and a bit blurry.

“Is he epileptic?” A warm voice asks, Youngbae’s voice confusedly replies “a what?”. If Jiyong wasn’t so confused and boneless he’d laugh.

“Has he ever had a seizure,” the doctor explains.

“No, never. And I’d know, I grew up with him, practically lived in the same room,” Youngbae replies.

“Good,” the warm voice says.

Jiyong feels it might be best if he announces his regained consciousness. So he tries to speak but the sound that comes out of his throat mostly resembles the sound of someone choking.

“He’s waking up,” a female voice says. Jiyong, opening his eyes, is already in a better mood knowing there’s a nurse close by.

When the brightness of the room doesn’t overwhelm his eyes anymore he does not see the face of a concerned nurse leaned over him. Instead it’s a face of a man with smooth skin, eyes with shadows underneath them and rosy lips. Wow, Jiyong thinks, I didn’t know they made doctors that young.

“I’m Doctor Lee Seunghyun, you fainted while your friend here was getting his wound stitched. Can you hear my voice?” the handsome doctor asks.

Yes, handsome, very handsome in his perfectly round gold-rimmed glasses and pristine white robes.

Jiyong, completely despite himself, feels a blush rise on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Jiyong says, and this time his voice doesn’t implode in on itself, “I can hear you doctor, I’m alright.”

“I’m gonna check your blood pressure, you still look a bit woozy,” Doctor Lee says, his mouth turned into a soft and reassuring smile. It’s a kitten-like smile.

Doctor Lee is nothing but meticulous as he checks his blood pressure, checks his pulse, checks his reflexes and asks too many questions for Jiyong to even register. Youngbae is even wheeled out at some point since he’s getting a MRI to make sure his head is not as screwed up on the inside as it had been on the outside. Jiyong hardly notices, not when Doctor Lee’s full attention is on him.

“When was your last meal?” Lee asks as he’s instructing Jiyong to sit on the side of the bed so he can test the reflexes of his legs.

“Ehm, I don’t know,” Jiyong honestly replies. He really doesn’t remember. He’s spent three straight days in the studio, freshening up in the bathroom, watching practices in the practice rooms, and chasing down MIA singers and dancers. He’s had jjajangmyeon and bossam, and a lot of kimbap, during these past days but he can’t remember _when_ exactly.

“You don’t know?” the doctor asks with a frown.

“I have eaten, it can’t have been more than six hours ago because I’m not hungry,” Jiyong continues.

Doctor Lee doesn’t look the least bit satisfied.

“I’m putting this down as fainting spell caused by exhaustion,” he says, “but I would like to have a look at your blood. Is it okay if we draw some and send it to the lab?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jiyong says, and it’s all he manages to say because he can definitely feel his cheeks burning with a blush now.

Lee lets the nurse draw the blood as he starts with the paperwork for the blood sample, getting all of Jiyong’s contact information.

“I’m gonna call when the results come in,” doctor Lee says and shakes his hand when there’s nothing more to do, the blood drawn and the papers finished.

Jiyong is still sitting on the side of the bed, but now with a sleeve rolled up and a hand pressed against the bandaid on the spot the nurse had expertly taken his blood from. He finds himself unwilling to move, and he doesn’t want the doctor to leave either. But there’s bound to be other patients in the hospital that needs the attention of a doctor, and Jiyong can’t keep it all to himself.

“Will I have to come back to see you?” Jiyong blurts out, internally wincing at the way the words come tumbling out at high speed. He really must still be woozy.

“That depends on the test results,” Lee says and smiles widely, his eyes look absolutely magical when he smiles. Jiyong feels his heart do a dance that is as surprising as it is energetic. Fuck.

“Ah well, thanks then,” Jiyong says and stands to bow. The doctor merely pats him on the shoulder and walks away, already in conversation with the nurse about something other than Jiyong.

Lee Seunghyun, a man, a doctor and a man that looks impossibly young and handsome, is the first person to have made his heart jump that wildly in years. Jiyong has no idea what to do with this knowledge.

-

“You really scared me,” Youngbae says as they ride the taxi back to the office, “I had no idea you were that scared of blood.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, then why did you faint?” Youngbae asks.

“I didn’t faint, it was exhaustion. Doctor Lee said so,” Jiyong replies with what he hopes is one of his more shiteating grins.

Youngbae can apparently look menacing even with his head in a bandage.

“That’s even worse. You’re getting our things at the office and then you go straight home,” he says with a frown and Jiyong knows that this is a fight that’s not worth fighting.

-

Jiyong sleeps for ten hours after Youngbae drops him off in the taxi. Okay, so maybe it was both the blood and the exhaustion, Jiyong mutters to himself as he’s checked the time on his phone.

He texts Youngbae and the bastard is already awake and feeling “like a new man” apparently. There should be a law against being enviously energetic after you’ve cracked your head open while demonstrating a backflip.

The sound of the streets below the building make their way into his bedroom, reminds him of the fact that he’s much too impatient to stay in bed. So he gets up, checks the fridge that is mostly empty except for some containers of moldy side dishes. There’s a carton of juice, and there’s microwave rice and toasted seaweed, he eats by the small coffee table while checking his mails on the phone. Being a millionaire music producer and songwriter with his own recently started agency has its benefits. The downsides are the hundred mails waiting for him in his inbox every morning. Even a morning like this when the world seems a bit tilted off its axis.

When he’s bored with the mails and has finished eating, he goes to facebook, types in ‘lee seunghyun’ and waits for the results. There’s a lot of them, but he narrows it down to Seoul, and there, on the first page of results, there he is. Doctor Lee, smiling and holding up a drink towards the camera.

“He’s hot,” Jiyong tells his empty apartment, “and single.”

Jiyong is thankful that Seunghyun doesn’t seem to be a nervous typ because most of his profile information is open for all users. Lee Seunghyun finished his mandatory military service before med school, then finished med school in what looks like less time than usual. He likes to party with friends, if the photos he’s tagged in are anything to go by. Jiyong feels reassured by the one photo from one of the lesser knows gay bars in town, almost no one goes there unless you’re actually pretty gay. And Jiyong needs this Lee Seunghyun to be gay because he’s looking like he’s dream man material - medical degree, looks, and everything.

By the time he has reached the office to have a meeting with some staff, he’s already laid out a plan. He’s to wait until the test results come back, and then he’ll book a consultation meeting with Seunghyun to talk about his health. Maybe he’ll want to do a full body health exam to make sure he’s not gonna die from stress or something, and then he’ll somehow ask the man out.

He’s imagining the scenario as he gets out of the taxi and walks into the foyer of his building, walking straight into-

“Doctor Lee?!”

“Ah!” is the only thing the doctor says as he reaches out to steady Jiyong.

“What are you doing here?”

“I realized your name, Kwon Jiyong, is in big gold letters on the outside of this building. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection last night,” Lee says. He’s smiling politely, but Jiyong figures there must be a reason other than blood test results to why the good doctor is standing in his building.

“Yes, well, we’ve only been here for two months, it took a while to fix up,” Jiyong replies, trying his best to look calm when his stomach is doing somersaults.

The doctor smiles that wide and genuine smile he had smiled the night before and Jiyong’s heart stops dead in its tracks.

“I remember the scaffolding, I walk past here on my way to and from work, from the subway station at the end of the block,” doctor Lee continues.

“Oh you do,” Jiyong says. He avoids looking at the place where Seunghyun’s hand is still on his upper arm.

“Well anyway, I got your blood test,” Seunghyun waves an iPad in the air and unfortunately lets go of Jiyong’s arm, “you’ve got perfect values, nothing to worry about.”

“Thats... good.”

“I’d say so too,” the doctor says, still smiling widely. Jiyong realizes he’s smiling too.

“Especially since I wanna ask you out for breakfast tonight.”

“Breakfast? You mean... you finished work NOW?” Jiyong asks incredulously.

Seunghyun laughs and nods, “yes, and when I wake up later tonight I’ll want to have breakfast.”

“I’ll come, sure,” Jiyong blurts out and digs out his phone from his pocket.

They exchange numbers and Jiyong feels like the fact that neither of them can stop smiling through the whole process is a very good sign. The shy touch of hands when Seunghyun leaves to go home and sleep is also a good sign. Even the fact that it sends an electric current through Jiyong’s body when their bare skin touches.

Lee Seunghyun is even more handsome out of the hospital in his normal clothes and in natural light of the day.

-

Breakfast ends up being grilled spicy ribs in a restaurant that Seunghyun frequents after a week of long evening shifts. The lady taking their order calls him “our handsome Seungri” and Seunghyun calls her auntie and asks for two big orders of food.

The dark bags under his eyes look just about the same even after he’s slept. It’s one of the rougher parts of his looks that Jiyong feels instantly attracted to, that and the hair he can see poking out from Seunghyun’s unbuttoned collar and on his arms where he’s folded the sleeves up.

The fact that he’s on what is essentially a date with a man he met twenty four hours ago after he had passed out at the sight of- from exhaustion - doesn’t seem odd at all. It feels extra right when Seunghyun keeps giving him those ethereal smiles.

“So...” Jiyong says when the lady finally stops cooing and walks away with their orders, “Seungri?”

“There were so many Seunghyuns in my school back home in Gwangju that we all got nicknames. The hanja for victory is in my name so it ended up being Seungri,” the doctor explain while smiling, forever smiling, over the edge of his glass of water.

“You like it?”

Jiyong nods.

“I do, it sounds like a proper stage name. It suits you.”

Seunghyun blushes, _blushes_ , and Jiyong’s heart performs another deadly feat of acrobacy.

“The you can call me Seungri,” Seungri says. Which also marks the end point of them using formal speech with each other. Jiyong doesn’t even particularly mind that he wasn’t the one to suggest it, he’s too focused on every movement of Seungri’s lips.

They talk until the food comes, and then they keep talking. The ribs and the side dishes being some of the best Jiyong has ever tasted. It’s midnight when they finally leave, stomachs full and a bit tipsy on soju and beer. Seungri insists on sharing a taxi, Jiyong would rather bite his own tongue off than to argue.

When Seungri invites him up for some more beer he doesn’t argue either, he just pays the taxi fare in a big bill that’s probably way too much money and hurries after him. The ride in the elevator is so tense that Jiyong can hardly breathe, they barely bake it down the short hallway to Seungri’s apartment, and inside the door, before Seungri pounces.

He kisses like a possessed man and Jiyong at first just holds on tight and tries not to get crushed against the wall behind him (and he truly does enjoy this kind of kissing), but eventually he takes charge and pushes Seungri back.

“I haven’t even removed my shoes yet,” he says with a laugh and Seungri laughs too.

“Do it quickly then,” Seungri replies, and Jiyong practically kicks his shoes off while Seungri slowly takes off his own.

“Did you want that beer?” Seungri asks cheekily, with a new crooked smile that sends blood rushing down to Jiyong’s crotch.

“No, I’m good,” Jiyong replies with a dry mouth.

Seungri shows him into the apartment, through the small kitchen and living room to the bedroom and the bed that is neatly made even though he could not have had much time to do it between sleeping and meeting Jiyong for “breakfast”.

“The bathroom is through there, if you want to... freshen up?” Seungri says and points at a door next to a closet.

Jiyong however, has a whole different thing in mind.

“Come here,” he says, and Seungri comes closer, lets himself be wrapped up in Jiyong’s arms and kissed. Jiyong shivers all over when Seungri sighs against his lips, and the kiss doesn’t stay soft from then on. If he could, then Jiyong would swallow all the sweat sounds Seungri makes while kissed. He feels like he does swallow the moans that Seungri makes when Jiyong explores his mouth with his tongue.

It’s unbelievable, and perfect, that he’s here right now, his tongue in Seungri mouth and their crotches pressed together. He can feel Seungri’s hard on through their jeans. Which reminds him of the existence of clothes.

“Everything off,” he manages to say while kissing Seungri, his fingers buried deep in the hair on the back of his head.

Seungri laughs and leans his head back for air.

“Sure, just let me move a bit, hyung,” Seungri says and Jiyong’s jeans suddenly feel much too tight. He hopes he doesn’t look like someone who had just almost come in his pants from the sound of a doctor calling him ‘hyung’. Because that’s basically what just happened.

It turns into a frantic race of who can remove the other’s clothes first, mixed up with kissing and groping, and then they’re lying on the bed. Jiyong’s hand is on both their cocks, especially appreciating the size of Seungri’s erection.

Stroking, kissing, legs entangling and loudly moaning, they quickly get close to completion. Jiyong watches Seungri’s face through his orgasm, fascinated by it, how he can look so handsome even when his facial muscles do their own thing entirely. Seungri kisses him dead and hurriedly when he’s come down from his high, placing his hand on Jiyong’s hand that’s on his own painfully hard erection.

Jiyong doesn’t last long after that, with Seungri tongue halfway down his throat and his soft hand on his. When Jiyong comes he thinks he might’ve moaned Seungri’s name a couple of times, but neither of them are any state to mention it afterwards. They lie on the bed, legs entangled and noses touching, as they pant and kiss when the lust continues to overspill.

“God you’re beautiful,” Seungri says between kisses. Jiyong’s heart dances rapidly in his chest.

“Well, look at you Mr. devilishly handsome doctor. You’re not half bad either,” Jiyong replies as he traces a pattern of his own design through the soft hairs on Seungri’s chest.

“Is this some kind of doctor fetish I’m noticing?” Seungri asks while laughing a little out of breath.

Jiyong smiles wickedly and pulls Seungri even closer where they lie on their sides facing each other.

“I used to have a thing for nurses, but I think you’ve cured me, doctor,” he says and they both laugh before they get lost in another kiss.

-

Jiyong is not laughing when Seungri a week later wears his white doctor robe, stethoscope and all, in the bedroom. Instead he more or less chokes on his own spit when Seungri tells him to strip so that he can look closer at his buttocks.

 

-


End file.
